Affairs of the Heart
by R3dWr1t1ngH00d
Summary: Ashe has been Queen of Avarosa for five years and has begun the seemingly endless task of uniting the Freljord. She'd do anything for her people, even at the cost of her own heart. (This story is set before Ashe and Tryndamere are married.)
1. Sanctuary

**Author's Note: So, I'm EXTREMELY new to this whole Fan Fiction writing thing. I would absolutely, 100% love some critique from anyone out there reading this. I'm kind of working as I go, so it's never too late to fill out a comment form down there at the bottom of the page. I can take it, I promise. Tell me what you like, what you hate, and what you think I could work on to improve the piece. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Affairs of the Heart

Chapter 1: Sanctuary

The clearing looked pristine and untouched as the snow crunched beneath the soft-soled boots of the Frost Archer. Ashe didn't venture this far out into the wilds of Freljord very often, but she needed peace. A clear mind had been a luxury she couldn't afford in-town where everyone's problems were always her own. And she had even fewer moments to herself with her involvement in the League, and the laborious task of persuading the High Council of Equity of Freljord's validity as a city-state; a battle in which no headway had been made. As she approached the cairn she sighed. _Avarosa alone is not populous enough to be deemed a city-state,_ she reminded herself. At least, that's what High Councilor Heywan Relivash thought, and it seemed that's the only thing that mattered.

Ashe stopped as her toes met the shadow of the tomb that loomed before her now. She raised her chin and pushed back her cowl to take in the iced-over stone burial site, the rune at the top sitting precariously in the exact place she'd left it five years ago; to the day, in fact. Dropping to her knees, she laid her beloved bow before her in the snow and closed her eyes. The wind howled overhead, but the trees surrounding the sanctuary shielded it from the icy onslaught of air.

_How? How do I make them see us for what we are? How do I magically double our population just to earn the protection and endorsement that we need? Noxus will have us surrounded before then… I just need a sign_.

A sharp screech from above jolted Ashe out of her meditation. She smiled as she recognized the hawk that landed silently on a branch at the edge of the clearing. Though she hadn't seen him in years, his was not a screech she could forget. She nodded to her feathered hero before reaching down and wrapping her fingers around the bow. He watched as the Frost Archer stood and strolled across the clearing towards him with an outstretched arm. She was only a few feet away when he hopped over and perched on his new seat, mindfully aiming for Ashe's gauntlet instead of her less armored forearm.

"You're quite intelligent, aren't you?" she asked him, giggling at the animal's apparent playfulness as he turned his head from side to side, examining the face of the woman he seemingly recognized. With one last curious blink in her direction, the raptor leapt from his perch on the Queen's arm and disappeared into the frozen forest.

Ashe watched after him for a few moments before turning back to the cairn. Her sigh was much heavier now as she approached the memorial. She'd come here to find answers, not ask more questions. As she sat down at the base of the mound, she recalled the image of her mother, the former Queen of her tribe. Strong. Decisive. Unwavering. She was surprised as a pang of grief tightened in her chest and elicited tears to cloud her vision.

_She'd have given those Summoners an earful._

But Ashe's mother would've never been so diplomatic about the whole ordeal. She would've charged into the Council's meeting chambers and demanded city-state status for Freljord. It's just the kind of woman she was; just the kind of woman she died as.

With a quick swipe across her cheeks, Ashe dried the tears before they could freeze to her face, and cringed as she thought of all the insults her mother would've spewed at her stand on ruling Avarosa. She shook her head and looked down at the shining bow resting in her lap.

_It's time the people of Freljord laid down their weapons. We have enough on our plates with the Noxians and their Barbarian Pacification Campaign. As if we really need to be fighting ourselves. A people of the same tundra – of the same blood. Hell, it was only five years ago that I myself could've passed as a fair-haired Barbarian child. Their coal colored locks are only a few shades darker than the light brown hue mine used to take, though the stark white shock of hair on my head would stand out painfully among them now. Even so, Avarosans and Barbarians alike are all children of the Freljord, as well as the Winter Claw, Ursine and Frostguard. Why is it so hard to unite under one banner?_

At this thought, Ashe stood and turned to face the burial cairn. She replaced her hood and with it, locked the questions in her head. She needed a plan, but no one else should see how troubled she truly was. It would only cause unrest in Avarosa. The Frost Archer turned on her heel, swung the ice bow over her head to its resting place with her quiver, and followed her footprints out of the clearing.

* * *

"Nice weather we're having, don't you agree, my Queen?" the Cryopheonix called as Ashe stepped out of the tree line on the outskirts of Avarosa.

"Ah, sister! A break in the blizzard is always welcome in Freljord!" Ashe shouted back. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in months, save the few League battles we've fought together. Where have you been?"

The great ice bird swooped down and landed in the snow next to the Frost Archer and, standing nearly as tall as the petite Queen, shook out her feathers, throwing a mist of ice onto her hooded friend.

"I could ask Her Highness the same question. Frostfall Forest really isn't somewhere I'd recommend the Queen of Freljord to aimlessly wander without a guard." Anivia's tone was mostly mocking, but Ashe caught the slightest hint of genuine concern.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not the Queen of Freljord then," Ashe joked. "Freljord's not a city-state, therefore _has_ no queen."

"Says who?" laughed the bird. "Who would dare claim this beautiful, frozen country unworthy of city-statehood within Valoran?"

"Just the only people who matter," scoffed the Queen, her bitterness flaring as she spotted the League of Legends flag whipping angrily below the Avarosan banner atop the flag pole at the entrance to the town.

Anivia threw a wing over the shoulders of the troubled Queen.

"No worries, old friend. They'll see. In time, they'll see. In the meantime, let's get you back to the Estate. No reason to stand out here freezing to death with a country to fix!"

"You say that as if there's been a single moment in time in the last five years where _I_ have been _cold_," Ashe rebutted, shrugging the wing from her back and taking a few steps forward. "But, if you insist, I'll race you!"

And with that, the Frost Archer took off through the snow toward the front gates of Avarosa. Anivia waited a few seconds, chuckling to herself.

_In all my years of many lives, no one human has ever kept me so young. Her spirit is strong, and her heart is pure. Ashe has to be the one to reunite the Freljord. _

Anivia sprung out of the snow and pulled herself into the air.

_If she can't mend the wounds of this country, I doubt that anyone can._

* * *

At the frost-laden, wrought iron gate to Ashe's Estate that rested at the very back of Avarosa, the two guards standing watch were slightly alarmed when they spotted the Queen sprinting up the iced-over cobblestone path towards them. It wasn't until Anivia flew into sight that they relaxed the iron grips they'd taken on the hilts of the swords at their waists. As Ashe neared the gate they could hear the infectious laugh of their Queen accompanied by the laughter of the children that chased her. She slowed then, to allow the kids a chance to catch up, and then turned suddenly and dropped to one knee to catch the two blonde-haired girls that had been gaining on her heels. Anivia descended from the sky and landed between the two guards at the gate, taking in the scene as they were.

It was certainly not uncommon for Ashe to entertain the children of the town with these silly chases. And no one would dare say that the Queen shouldn't act in such a manner. There was an understanding in Avarosa that Ashe had been somewhat robbed of the chance to mature gradually over her teen years by her mother's death and her immediate rise to power as a fifteen year old girl. There was also an understanding that depriving the Queen of any joys she could manage to cultivate in Avarosa was cruel and unnecessary. The elders of the tribe, though mostly in agreement with Ashe's new campaign for peace and unity, were still members of a much different tribe that had existed well before Ashe's time until the reign of her late mother. Though Ashe had a rightful, blood claim to the throne, it wouldn't be long before the elders tired of her childish pastimes and demanded she settle into the crown she inherited, so allowing the twenty-year-old to enjoy what remained of her youth was a heart-warming service her people provided. And it wasn't like she went running around in such a manner anywhere other than in the protected confines of her home.

In the harsher past of the tribe, battle-hardened leaders' philosophies had always been those of war and survival. But since Ashe took over, Avarosa had seen an unprecedented five years of peace and prosperity.

The town itself had grown immensely, in population and in physical structures. The vast, twenty-foot stone wall surrounding the town had been Ashe's first commission as the undisputed Queen. It allowed the people of the village a sigh of relief from the impending threat of invasion by other tribes, and claimed, for certain, a massive area for the town to inhabit and grow into; space they had not yet filled by any means. Aside from barring the citizens from attacks, the wall also served to shield the city from the frigid Northern winds that often cut across the icy plain the town was built upon. At the back of the town was a sheer, icy cliff face that served as the backdrop to Ashe's Estate. A smaller ice formation jutted out to the North of the ever-growing castle into a sturdy point that governed the space over the town's courtyard from which the Queen would address the populace who could gather below.

As for the castle itself, Ashe had nothing to do with its construction. She didn't spend too much time in the building, honestly. Between summons from the League, her diplomatic agenda, and other tasks that beckoned her away from the place, she rarely even slept there. But that didn't stop the architect in charge of the project from planning out a massive, ornate, regal looking castle with cavernous banquet halls, luxurious guest rooms, various areas for entertaining, and a well-equipped practice room and stocked armory for the Queen and her body guards, who also took up residence in the castle, as well as the servants and housekeepers, who Ashe rarely made demands of.

The castle's exterior of white stone and gold trim had a very Freljord inspired theme, an aspect that Ashe always appreciated when she came home, and even did so now as she stood and began walking to the gate, little Avarosans in tow.

"Alright, you beat me," Ashe breathed, panting. "But my army and I greatly outnumber your ranks, Cryophoenix. Any last words?" She winked at the castle guards.

"Strength does not come from numbers and size, my Queen," Anivia replied, standing taller, "but from the intentions of the heart and the strength of the soul."

With that a small boy with a wooden sword dashed to the front of the pack of children.

"Long live the Queen!" he shouted.

"Long endure the Freljord!" the others chimed in, finishing the cry of the people; the cry of Ashe's people. She couldn't help but smile at Anivia as the kids swarmed the two guards who quickly succumbed and found themselves tied to the iron gate as the children ran off giggling. At this, the Frost Archer openly chuckled.

"Looks like you're all tied up again, Weylan," she poked at the sandy haired guard who was wiggling to free a dagger from his belt. As childhood friends, Ashe and Weylan had grown very close. The night of Ashe's attempted assassination, her friend had gone to warn her, but had been captured and tied up before he made it to the young Queen's quarters, which were much less royal back then. He was the head of her personal guard.

"Always giving me slack for that, Your Highness," he sighed as he began sawing at the rope. "I'm prepared to free myself this time, though."

Anivia grasped the poorly tied knot at the second guard's back and freed him as Weylan's bindings frayed under the blade and finally fell limp around him.

"You received a letter today, my Queen," the second guard, Bristol, remembered aloud. "Ahnja came out and took it inside a while ago. I think she said she'd leave it in your quarters."

Ashe nodded thanks to him and reached a hand out to each of them, helping to pull them up at the same time. Though the woman had a small frame, she was not as frail as some would believe her to be. With a sudden interest in this message, the Queen returned to her more reserved, dignified self.

"I'm planning on staying home tonight, pending no summoners get the itch for a quick battle. So, I'll see you both at dinner," Ashe said as she passed between them to the gate which Anivia had already opened.

"Long live the Queen," the two saluted.

"Long endure the Freljord," Ashe smiled back.

* * *

Ashe scoffed as she read the letter she found lying on her bedside table. Ahnja, a housemaid, had recognized the Noxian seal that had been sloppily stamped in wax on the envelope, and had accordingly lit a calming lavender candle on Ashe's vanity, poured the Queen a cup of still steaming cocoa, and left a short note informing the monarch that if she needed anything, she could find Ahnja in the kitchen, Weylan at the gate (as Ashe already knew), or solitude in the practice room (where the maid would be happy to paint a few Noxian figureheads at the center of some of Ashe's targets). With a sigh, Ashe slipped her index finger under the flap of the envelope and separated the wax, which seemed to burn toxic under her touch, from the paper. She was surprised when she unfolded the inner parchment to find the handwriting pretty and carefully written, aside from its sinister origin. She skipped the body of the letter entirely and eyed the signature of the arrogant pen that had written the note, and was surprised again to see the signature of Katarina Du Couteau. What did the Sinister Blade of Noxus need to say that she couldn't mention in person at the Institute of War in her own poison-laden voice?

"Her Highness Queen Ashe of Avarosa," the letter began, "I am writing you today to officially inform you that the Barbarian Pacification Campaign headed by the Noxian High Command has been discontinued. That being said, Noxian forces will be moving out of the Freljord and will likely need to pass through Avarosa en route to safer passage through the Iron Spike Mountains into Piltover through Glacier Plain. We don't intend on being in the area more than a few days, but the town of Avarosa is the only place to re-supply and rest before the days-long trek through the mountains. Noxus would appreciate any assistance Her Highness may see fit to grant our tired soldiers, but would appreciate even more if Her Highness would refrain from attacking the war convoy upon its arrival in Avarosa.

"I will be among the first of three companies to arrive starting in the late afternoon tomorrow. If you'd like to discuss anything regarding the situation, I'd be happy to meet with you once the tents are pitched and campfires sparked. It is of my primary concern that no more of my men freeze to death in this inhospitable climate. We're just grateful the blizzard died down.

"Forever strong,

"Katarina Du Couteau – Sinister Blade of Noxus"

As Ashe finished the letter, she could feel her face burning with frustration. How presumptuous of Noxus to assume Avarosa would grant sanctuary to the very force that was engaged in slaughtering her Barbarian brothers out in the snow! But what else could the Queen do but allow the Noxians a place for the night? Though the Freljordian army was well equipped and highly mobile, there would be no chance for Avarosa to come out of a conflict without many casualties. In her head, Ashe figured the percentage of Avarosan citizens currently serving in the Armed Forces of Freljord. _No_, she concluded, _there would be no chance of victory with odds like that. Plus, the volumes a confrontation would speak of Freljord's candidacy for acceptance as a city-state in the League would be far from supportive. The Noxians will camp at Avarosa._

Ashe turned to the flickering fireplace across the room and chucked the wadded up letter into the flames. Taking the cup of cocoa in her hands, she had to restrain herself from launching that across the room as well.

_The rest of Freljord won't like this at all, _she thought bitterly.


	2. Dinner

Chapter 2: Dinner

Ashe sat silently at the dinner table as a castle servant set a plate down in front of her. An elk steak accompanied by a Juniper berry mash imparted to the Queen that the hunting parties had been exceedingly successful last week. The unexpected side of grilled asparagus told her that the indoor gardening project was also going well, despite the troubles they'd had protecting the glass greenhouse from hail during the blizzard. This made her smile to herself, though her overall mood was sullen. Another servant poured Ashe a glass of water, the ice cubes clinking sporadically against the glass as the current from the force of the water falling from the pitcher sucked them down into the little undertow. Though the room was full of voices and laughter, all Ashe could hear was the clanging of swords coming from her glass; the echoes of clashing metal. And in the background, though she knew it was the massive fireplace to her right, she could hear the roar of her home burning under Noxian flames.

_What if this is a trick? What could we do if three Noxian war caravans just decided to take the town? Oh, this is ridiculous! And we don't even have the assurance that the League would interfere! Avarosa could be scorched to the ground and those summoners might not do ANYTHING about it. I wish I'd never received that letter…_

Ashe's mind stopped there. She felt eyes on her face. From across the table, Weylan was giving the Queen a questioning look as he sipped from his mug of ale. Ashe spoke then, her eyes not leaving Weylan's gaze.

"How did that letter make it to the gate of the Estate?"

The room fell silent as everyone there, mainly Ashe's body guards, a few housemaids and Anivia, realized that Ashe was speaking and hadn't said a word all night.

"What do you mean, Your Highness?" asked Ahnja, who was seated two chairs to Ashe's left. The Frost Archer's voice remained cold as she turned her gaze to Bristol, and asked again.

"How in Avarosa's name did a letter sealed with the Noxian crest make its way from a Noxian war camp, through the front gates of the city, and into the hands of my personal body guards at the front gates of this estate?"

Realization wiped the dazed expressions off of Ahnja and Weylan's faces as Bristol replied.

"It was a page, my Queen. A barbarian page. He said it was urgent. We assumed it was from a tribe seeking sanctuary," he said as he glanced at Weylan. "We didn't look at the seal."

"The boy was no older than ten winters, Your Highness," Weylan insisted. "We didn't even think to look at the letter. It was addressed simply to you, though the penmanship on the envelope was quite intricate to be from a barbarian commander. Who was it from?"

Ashe stood and pulled her hood down to address the table. Since Weylan was in charge of the Royal Guard and Siska, Ashe's appointed field general, were both here, she figured now was as good a time as ever to have a strategy meeting about tomorrow. She motioned for Ahnja to close the doors and dismissed the dinner service staff. The remaining soldiers continued to eat, but didn't look away from the Queen as she spoke.

"I received a letter today from the front lines of a Noxian war party. The message, from Katarina Du Couteau, informed me that the Noxian Barbarian Pacification Campain is officially over, and that for the Noxian soldiers to get home safely, they would need to camp outside of Avarosa to regroup and rest before they hike across the plain to the Piltover Pass through the Iron Spike mountains. The Sinister Blade implied that the war caravans may be in need of supplies, but that if we chose not to trade with them, they wished for us to simply leave them alone as they camped for a few days."

The expressions of the soldiers ranged from disgust to disbelief. Weylan set his ale down and crossed his arms stubbornly, his hatred for the Noxians turning the corners of his mouth down and furrowing his brow. But the room remained quiet.

"In light of this new information regarding the barbarian page, it is my belief that these Noxian soldiers may be keeping some of our barbarian brothers and sisters captive as prisoners of war. It is also my belief that their ranks will outnumber us five or six fold based on numbers I've picked up from my dealings at the Institute of War in passing conversations with Nunu and Tryndamere. They've been having a hard time fighting off the Noxians. Much blood has already been spilled, and the nomads have resorted to hiding in the mountains to the south of our own Frostfall Forest. Based on these facts, it is my prerogative to ensue trading with the Noxians as soon as they arrive tomorrow afternoon. Though I despise the idea as much as you do, I believe it our duty to trade whatever we can for the freedom of those Freljordians in Noxian captivity."

"The elders won't like it," Siska murmered, her brown eyes rising in concern to meet the Queen's icy gaze.

"No. They won't. And neither will the other tribes of Freljord, but we're the last chance for the prisoners if they truly are captured and traveling with the Noxians to Piltover. How they are ensuring themselves safe passage through there, I have no idea, but I speculate that Zaun will have something to do with it."

"I can do some scouting tonight, if Her Highness wishes it so," Anivia offered from the Queen's right.

"Can you stay out of sight?" Ashe's eyes fell to the table.

"I can call upon a storm to keep the Noxians from looking up. They've a tender foot when it comes to snow. I'll count vehicles and tents, and see if I can't get an eye on a barbarian among them," the bird replied.

Ashe only nodded before the Cryophoenix turned and unhooked the window at the far end of the room and then took off without a word into the freezing air. A soldier rose to shut out the cold that began to instantly seep into the room.

"There will be no blood tomorrow," Ashe continued. "Do you understand?"

Siska and a few other soldiers nodded.

"Siska, I need you to spread the word around town. Call a meeting tomorrow before noon. The Noxians should begin arriving later, closer to evening, but I want everyone to know well before then. I've got a match at the Institute first thing tomorrow, and it's hard telling how long I'll be gone, but I'll speak with my summoner should I feel he's kept me too long. Hopefully I can speak with Tryndamere in private while I'm there."

She turned to Weylan.

"You're in charge of any exchanges that might occur in the event that I'm gone when the Noxians get here. You've access to my quarters. Nothing is more important than the liberation of the barbarians that may be enslaved by Noxus."

Weylan nodded.

"That's it then," Ashe finished. "I apologize for interrupting your dinner."

Ashe eyed her own plate as she sat back down. Ahnja, who'd been standing at the door to the kitchen, re-opened it, revealing several servants who'd been pressing their ears against the wood. She gave the three of them a stern look before sending them to pick up the empty plates on the table.

Some of the soldiers resumed their conversations, but none were nearly as jubilant as they had been before. Most of them had finished eating while listening to the Queen's plans, and were standing to return to their barracks in the North wing.

Ashe called Ahnja to her and asked that she take the untouched dinner plate to her room where she planned to pick at it and brood in solitude, though she remained stoic and even managed a half-smile at the housemaid. As she got up to leave, a hand caught her wrist.

"Your Majesty," Weylan said as he leaned over the table, "might I talk to you in private for a moment?"

Ashe nodded and dismissed Ahnja, who shooed away the other servants and shut the door to the hallway behind her.

Weylan's expression was beyond concerned as he continued.

"What if it's all a ruse? What if Noxus plans to attack Avarosa? What could we do? What if while you're gone they…"

Ashe raised a hand to silence him.

"I'm going back to the Institute very early tomorrow. Anivia will fly me there. I will demand to speak to High Councilor Relivash before I'll do anything on Summoner's Rift. He _will_ see me. I'll express my concerns there, but until something happens there's nothing I can do. You know this."

She allowed her face to reveal some of her concerns to her old friend.

"I don't have a solution yet," she admitted. "Even if Noxus _doesn't_ attack us tomorrow afternoon, how long will it be before they find some other ridiculous reason to slay and enslave the people of Freljord? The War Machine of Noxus _feeds _on this kind of confrontation. They want more power. They want more land. They won't stop until all of Valoran flies their hideous flag."

Weylan sighed.

"My words do not comfort you."

"No, my Queen. Not entirely," Weylan admitted.

"Walk me to my quarters," Ashe offered. "Tell me what you think I should do."

As the pair walked slowly through the halls, Weylan discussed every possible outcome that could manifest in the waning hours of the sun the next day. A night raid, a full out assault from the get-go, a stand-off… He'd thought of everything. And none of the results ended in an Avarosan victory.

"And Katarina insisted that you be the one to negotiate when she arrives?"

Ashe nodded.

"Your Highness, please pardon my suspicions, but I fear that this is merely a trap. If you go alone, she'll have a knife at your throat in an instant. If you take a guard, she'll cry an assault and take the whole party out. She's not the 'Sinister Blade of Noxus' for nothing," Weylan whispered.

"I appreciate the concern, old friend. I don't intend on going out there completely alone. I've lived through one too many assassinations to do that. I intend to meet her half way. I'll see if I can't get a message to her or one of her superiors tomorrow morning."

As the Queen said this, they reached her bedroom on the top floor of the North wing of the castle.

"One day, I think blades will be crossed with Noxus," Ashe sighed, "but that day must not be tomorrow. Not when our biggest goal is to persuade the League that Freljord is worthy of city-statehood under their protection. We don't have the support to get our way this time."

Weylan's eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm sorry I've doubted you, my Queen," Weylan said.

"No," Ashe said. "I'm sorry I've not been successful at the Institute. All of these problems wouldn't exist without their endorsement."

"But you can't just make them suddenly change their minds, Your Highness. You're an _archer_, not a lunatic summoner with mind control powers."

"I'm a _diplomat_, Weylan. Half the job is learning to control people's minds. And for the record, that's not how it works," she chuckled.

He half-smiled at the floor as Ashe placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ease your mind, soldier. No knives have been drawn, no arrows knocked. Sleep in peace tonight, brother."

"That diplomat talk doesn't work on me, Ashe."

She was surprised he'd used her name. Since her official coronation, Weylan, just like the rest of Avarosa, had only addressed her by her royal title. He looked just as surprised as he must've remembered his place.

"I… I mean…"

Though she was actually quite unsettled at how much she liked the sound of her name in his voice, the Queen replied just as coolly as she'd been speaking the entire time.

"And that sweet talk doesn't work on me, _Captain_," she added emphasis to the last word to remind Weylan of his duties; to her and to Freljord. There was no room for him to start making haphazard mistakes. He had no place to use her name like that.

Weylan closed his eyes and bowed slightly before the Queen.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, for speaking so out of turn," he murmered. Ashe smiled silently to herself and sighed.

"Go to bed, Weylan," she said, and added in a whisper, "that's an order, Captain."

And with that, the soldier nodded, saluted silently by placing a fist over his heart, and retraced their steps down the hallway towards the spiral staircase where he slipped into a door just before the landing on the opposite side of the hall. Once Ashe was sure no one else was in the hallway, she slouched against her door and placed a hand to her forehead in exhaustion. Then quietly let herself into her room, regrettably tossed her dinner into a wastebasket in the corner, changed into a nightgown, and laid down in the king-sized canopy bed, where she fell into a restless sleep.


	3. Negotiations

Chapter 3: Negotiations

Gloomy early morning light drifted through the window and cast a dim glow into the Queen's bedroom. Ashe sat at her vanity brushing out her wet hair. She'd awoken early, hours before the sun rose over the frozen countryside. Her blue, silken nightgown lay abandoned at the foot of her bed. Having just returned to her room from her shower, Ashe was still wrapped in a giant, fluffy bath towel as she detangled her ivory locks. She'd _really_ slept some knots into her hair last night. It's a wonder she woke up with blankets and pillows on her bed.

As she went to lay her brush down, a knock came at the door. _Who else could possibly be up this early?_

"Who is it?" Ashe called across the room to the light-toned pine wood door.

"Ah, good. You're awake," came the voice of the Cryophoenix.

"Oh, Anivia!"

Ashe hurriedly tiptoed across her room to the door and let the bird in. Anivia hopped over to the ornate wooden chest that sat at the foot of Ashe's bed and perched atop it as Ashe closed the door.

"Did you find anything last night?"

Anivia bowed her head.

"You were right about their forces. They're many times our size, but the soldiers are cold and weary and with no mission, are ready to return to Noxus where they can sleep in their own beds," Anivia informed.

"And what of the barbarians?" Ashe asked.

At this, Anivia shook her head.

"It would appear that you were correct about this too. But there were only a few barbarians in Noxian custody that I could see. They've got some trucks with rather large enclosed trailers though. I wouldn't put it past them to stuff prisoners into them. All of the barbarians out in the snow were being forced to pitch tents and build fires, as many of their troops don't know how to properly secure the posts in the snow, nor strike a flame on the ice. They're vulnerable. Numerous and heavily armed, but vulnerable none the less. And they know it."

Ashe rubbed her eyes, the situation immediately draining her energy.

"Maybe they've captured prisoners to ensure that we'd trade with them. If they've got an entire tribe in those trucks, they could have enough leverage for days."

Anivia nodded at this.

"It would be of great benefit to them to finagle their way out of Freljord with some help from the natives since this recent blizzard has been particularly harsh. I think that would make the most sense based on the circumstances," the bird responded. "When is your match?"

"Three hours," Ashe groaned. She had much more pressing matters to attend to than a romp down a lane at Summoner's Rift. But that reminded her. "Anivia, would you mind flying me there in a bit? I need to see if I can talk to Heywan before the match starts. He's got to see how ridiculous this is…"

"Of course," said Anivia. "Anything for Freljord, or for you for that matter."

Ashe smiled and reached out to touch the frigid shoulder of the Cryophoenix, though it wasn't much colder than her own hand.

"Thank you."

* * *

The deserted halls of the Institute were no surprise to Ashe as she slipped down the hallways towards Heywan Relivash's living quarters. Anyone awake at this hour would be in one of the gyms or practice rooms. The occasional summoner looked up at the Queen as she passed them, but no one dared interrupt her quickened pace to chat. It was obvious she was on a mission.

Ashe turned the corner and entered Heywan's hallway just as he was leaving his room. He looked up from the doorknob he was locking as she stopped at the end of the hallway.

"Good morning, Your Highness. How are you today?"

Ashe looked the man up and down before replying. As per usual, his hair was well kept, his face unreadable, his purple and gold High Summoner's cloak perfectly ironed, and his black dress shoes so shiny they'd reflect the night sky on a new moon.

"I've been better, Councilor," Ashe admitted, "but I think you may be able to help me."

"Ashe, if this is about Freljord's city-statehood, we can talk about it later at a more appropriate hour sometime after I've had my breakfast," Heywan said, slightly exasperated.

"No, sir, it's not about that. But I've got a match in a few hours and I'd like to get this done well before I'm summoned to the Rift."  
"Well, let's have it then," he sighed, leaning against his doorframe.

Ashe motioned towards the door.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all, my dear," Heywan said as he unlocked the door and held it open for the Queen. She hated when he used those stupid pet names, but the other female champions and summoners alike didn't seem to mind them. That is, except for Katarina Du Couteau who damn near draws a knife every time he calls her by one. Heywan made his way over to his comfy chair behind his massive mahogany desk, which was stacked high on either side with champion stats, bios, summoner applications and copies of the Journal of Justice, the League's newspaper.

"So, Ashe, what's this all about?" he finally asked, motioning for her to take a seat in the chair opposite him.

Ashe sat precariously on the edge of the seat, keeping her back straight and folding her hands on her knees. Being in Heywan's living quarters made her slightly uncomfortable since none of the other Councilmembers were there to mediate should he get into one of his moods, but this was urgent.

"Sir, I wouldn't be here this morning if I didn't believe what I'm about to confide in you wasn't very important. I bid you to please allow me to finish my explanation before you offer any remarks. Is that alright with you?"

Heywan sat back, crossed his left arm across his chest, cupped his other elbow in the palm of his hand, and set his chin down on his right palm before raising his eyebrows at her to continue.

"Yesterday I received a letter from the front lines of the Noxian Barbarian Pacification Campaign, which has officially been discontinued. The letter was from Katarina Du Couteau, asking Avarosa to allow her and her troops to camp outside our city for a few days. Miss Du Couteau imparted to me that there would be three separate war parties convening on the outskirts of Avarosa today, and that she would appreciate it if we refrained from attacking them upon their arrival; an action that would prove quite deadly to my people. It has also been brought to my attention that the Noxians are currently harboring barbarian prisoners of war, a fact I am one-hundred percent sure of. I intend to trade whatever I can for their freedom, but I worry that they will not be up for bargain. I also fear that, in the presence of such high tensions, the Noxians may find it imperative to go on the offensive against Avarosa, as we will not be allowing them passage to Piltover should they refuse to liberate all Freljordians in their custody. It would be nice, Councilor, if I could have your official backing on these standings against the War Machine and its ill-intentions against my people, as a confrontation will surely result in the destruction of my home."

Heywan stroked his chin.

"You're sure they've got barbarians with them? Tryndamere has said nothing of the sort to me," he asked.

"Tryndamere has been busy dealing with hiding the people the Noxians haven't already slaughtered. Anyone missing from their camps in the mountains is considered to currently be dead." Ashe's voice grew colder, if that was even possible, as she glared at the Councilor from across the desk. "This campaign has been no innocent field trip into the mountains, Councilor. My people, the People of Freljord, have been actively hunted and cut down by the blades of the Noxian War Machine. I cannot allow Noxus to take any of them prisoner and subject them to whatever hideous tortures they practice underground in their dungeons. I'll die before I let them do that, sir. For the Freljord, I would do anything."

"Yes, yes, yes I know… Your unification campaign explains all that," Heywan was becoming annoyed. "The thing is, sweetheart, that my hands are tied unless the Noxians declare open war on another city-state. As far as the Freljord, being only a territory of _Valoran_, no one may claim citizenship there. The barbarians are nomads. As I cannot offer assistance to the jungle people of Kumungu, I cannot offer any resources to the aid of the barbarians. I _can_ however, appeal to Noxus to leave Avarosa alone, since Avarosa has filed the proper paperwork as a nationally recognized settlement in the Freljord territory. Would you like me to send a message to General Darkwill?"

_If the Noxians don't show up in Avarosa, those barbarians are lost for sure._

"No, Councilor, I think I'll send one myself," Ashe huffed.

"Alright then, if we're done here," Heywan stood at the same time as Ashe, "I'll see you later on the Rift. Good luck, Frost Archer."

And with that, Ashe turned and made a beeline for the door, making sure to reveal no emotion in her face or her posture. She didn't care if he thought she was angry, but he couldn't see how defeated she felt. Once in the hallway she headed for the Northern Wards where the Institute assigned Demacian champions and their allies, or rather everyone not allied with Noxus. Life in the hallways was picking up, but she knew Tryndamere would still be sleeping. He had a bad habit of showing up late to Monday morning matches.

When she reached the Barbarian King's door, she tried to collect herself before pounding at the wood. She was surprised to be met so quickly with an open door and a bare-chested Tryndamere already half dressed for the match that morning.

"Oh, Ashe, it's you," he said, somewhat surprised and slightly disappointed.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Ashe replied, raising a brow.

"Not really, no. I suppose you're here on business?"

"How'd you guess?" Ashe joked. She never talked to Tryndamere unless it was business. "Do you have a minute?"

"I suppose for the Queen of Avarosa, I could spare a few," he sighed, moving aside and lifting his arm so that she could walk under it, though he remained leaning against the doorframe. He had a good foot on Ashe in height, so she didn't even duck as she entered his room.

The room was dark and a little cluttered, though Ashe had expected much worse as she walked into the middle of his room. Ashe did notice that the thermostat was set at a whole forty degrees Fahrenheit, though she didn't feel the chill, unsurprisingly to her. Tryndamere's room was quite different from the relatively spacious quarters that had been assigned to Ashe. He had a sitting room at the very front, a kitchenette along the left wall, a breakfast nook with a table that looked much too small for the 6'5" warrior, an open area with a couch, loveseat and recliner in front of a gigantic glowing orb that was not unlike the even larger one used to view matches from the stands at Summoners Rift, and then two doors on either side of the screen, one that must have been a bathroom and the other, the door to his bedroom.

Tryndamere laughed from behind the Queen.

"You're not too cold are you?"

She glanced back at him and shook her head.

"No, this temperature suits me just fine, thanks," she replied, knocking Tryndamere's ego down a notch. He used the line to pick up Freljord-allied summoners who visited him when they wanted to ask him to fight for them. Usually he could get them to agree at least to a blanket, but truthfully the warmest spot in the whole apartment was curled up next to the barbarian.

Tryndamere walked to the couch and plopped down, patting the cushion next to him for Ashe. She took a delicate seat on the edge of the recliner instead.

"You're aware that Noxus has ended its campaign, I assume," Ashe started.

"No, actually, never got the memo." Tryndamere's eyebrows lifted as he leaned forward to pay attention to what Ashe would say next, pure shock wiping the grin off his face.

"Katarina sent me a letter," she continued, "but it was delivered to the front gate of my Estate by a barbarian page sent by the Noxian war parties that are currently on their way to Avarosa."

Tryndamere's brow furrowed and his voice deepened impossibly.

"They've captured our _children?_"

"More than that, as I'm told by Anivia. She scouted them out for us last night. They've got a ridiculous amount of trucks that could potentially be filled front to back with barbarian families, which is what I suspect, since Katarina is looking for sanctuary once they arrive at Avarosa this afternoon."

At this, Tryndamere stood up and began yelling.

"SANCTUARY? YOU'RE GRANTING THEM _SANCTUARY_? ARE YOU INSANE? THEY'VE BEEN _MURDERING_ US FOR THE PAST SIX MONTHS AND YOU'RE GOING TO GRANT THEM _SANCTUARY_?"

Ashe stood now, with her hands up and her palms facing the infuriated man who towered over her as his face began to redden.

"Tryndamere, calm down," she said, keeping an even tone. "Shouting won't help the situation, first of all. And secondly, I wasn't finished."

He continued to huff as Ashe walked towards him and placed her hands on his raised fists.

"You won't be needing those at the moment, either," she said as she pushed them down to his sides, her icy hands distracting the barbarian long enough to check his temper.

"You sure you're not cold?" he asked, caught off guard.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "May I finish?"

He nodded as he sat back down on the couch and pushed a hand through is shoulder-length midnight hair, and Ashe took her place again at the edge of the recliner.

"I'm planning on trading everything I can to free your people," Ashe assured him, which seemed to calm him down a little more, but the question pushed at his lips before Ashe could continue.

"What if they won't trade?"

"We'll have to make them an offer they can't refuse," Ashe insisted.

"Which is?"

"I don't know exactly. If nothing else, a guide through the mountain pass to Piltover. Katarina expressed in her letter that they've lost a lot of men to the cold, and that she would prefer to not lose any more."

Tryndamere sneered at this.

"What? The tender footed Noxians can't handle a little snow?"

"Now, now, you know the blizzard was bad," Ashe chided him. "We need to be diplomatic about this. I don't want any more blood spilled today, is that clear?"

"I suppose that's easy for you to say, since Avarosa's remained relatively untouched throughout the whole thing. I guess your people aren't nearly as barbaric as mine."

"Really Tryndamere?" She just looked at him.

"What?"

"This is not the time to be poking sharp sticks at other tribes. We have important things to do here."

Tryndamere raised his calloused hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry. I'll try to be less hostile since you _are_ trying to help."

"I appreciate it," Ashe nodded, allowing a half-smile to lift her grave expression.

"So, what next?" he pressed, glancing at the six-foot, solid steel, gem encrusted blade that leaned menacingly in the corner opposite Ashe.

"How fast can you mobilize?"

"And get the tribes in the mountains to Avarosa? If I send the order now, they'll be there by noon."

"Send them," Ashe insisted. "The captain of the Royal Guard will see that they are taken care of. What about you? What's your schedule today?"

"Just this match in an hour, and then I'm as good as gone," Tryndamere assured her.

"Good. Me too. Anivia is around. She's stayed to watch the match. I'll send work back with her now to get things moving in Avarosa. Have the barbarians bring whatever valuables they have. We've _got_ to free those prisoners."

Tryndamere nodded as he reached for a pen and notepad.


	4. Tension

**Author's Note: After a very helpful review I decided to go back through the chapter and change up the language to make it less repetitive. I hope you like it! Just in case you didn't see the first upload of this chapter, I am and will be continuing to write this story. The chapters may just take longer as the plot progresses and school starts up again (yay college, woo!). Like always, drop me a review and let me know what you think! I love the perspective I get from other writers.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Tension

As the cobblestone summoning platform dissolved into the Fountain at Summoner's Rift, Ashe closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. If her worries could just dematerialize like the sight of the five chanting summoners that stood motionless around the drafted team of champions, then maybe she could just enjoy this battle, if only a little. Tryndamere nodded to Ashe before he turned to leave the shopkeeper. She blinked recognition of his well-wishing. To her left, Soraka stowed the wards she'd bought and began to run down the bottom lane.

"Ready, Frost Archer?" Soraka asked; her voice velvet in comparison to the harsh incantations of the summoners.

"As I'll ever be," Ashe replied, glancing around the circle of remaining champions. The team was of an admittedly strange company, but this match was just for entertainment.

Veigar, the dark little Yordle, was just waddling off the platform, staff held high over his head and a particularly "ebil" cackle escaping his invisible mouth. Another low, rumbling laugh turned Ashe's attention to the werewolf that shortly followed suit after the purple-cloaked sorcerer. Warwick growled to Tryndamere for help with his first monster kill in the team's jungle before disappearing into the trees. A glance at Soraka told Ashe that the Starchild was still uneasy with being in such close proximity with the man – _wolf_ – that tried to kill her.

"Are you going to be able to do this?" Ashe whispered to her.

"To heal and protect, Your Highness," the faun replied, her face turning back over her shoulder and her figure disappearing down the bottom lane.

"Ashe, get moving," Tryndamere called from his position in a bush with Warwick. "Or did you notice you're still standing in the Fountain?"

With a roll of her sapphire irises, the Frost Archer sprinted after the healer down the lane. She found Soraka crouched beneath the outermost turret, her celestial staff propped up against the structure.

_What strategy are you feeling today?_ Ashe thought to Wendell, her summoner, who had remained silent so far.

_Let's see how Warwick and Tripp do in the jungle before we get too aggressive. Caitlyn and her summoner have been practicing non-stop for the last two weeks. Tillie hasn't summoned anyone BUT Caitlyn. And Vi might be running support, though I wouldn't be surprised to see Nidalee down here either. They don't have anyone jungling, by the way._

The all-too-familiar voice of the Rift Announcer rang out above the trees.

"Minions have spawned!"

_Good to know, _Ashe thought back, knocking an arrow to her bow.

The lane remained silent in the few seconds that it took the mindless little creeps to wobble their way down their pre-determined path. Just as the waves from opposing teams clashed out in the open, Caitlyn and Vi slipped into the lane behind their minions from an outer-lane bush. Ashe hung back for a few seconds to let the minions do some damage before she began farming the lane, with Soraka never more than a few steps away and constantly checking with her summoner on the status of the wards she'd placed.

Things were pretty mundane in bottom lane. There wasn't much fire exchanged between the four champions until Ashe was finally able to muster up the mana to shoot her signature enchanted arrow; an ability she could use whenever she wanted in real life. She chuckled disgustedly to herself. The League had been forced to place powerful restrictions on champions in the arena.

_Noxus and Demacia would undoubtedly destroy Valoran if the Institute would let them off their leashes_, Ashe sneered to herself. _Idiots._

Wendell chimed in almost immediately after she thought this.

_Well that's not very nice, Your Highness. Name-calling isn't really becoming of a monarch._

Remembering now that Wendell could hear and see what she was thinking, Ashe resolved to focus on the match. Caitlyn and Vi were, unsurprisingly, working very well together, though Ashe and Soraka could hear them lightly bickering about strategy from over the minions. Ever since Vi started working with Caitlyn, the pair of them had been the team to beat in bottom lane. Ashe could then hear the voice of Warwick rumbling in her ear.

_Let her push the lane. I'm on my way._

Ashe and Soraka then fell back to their turret to allow their opponents to venture nearer to the opening of the river, where Ashe caught a glimpse of the glowing blood-red eyes of the silvery beast. He blinked a signal to them, and then howled as he burst into the lane behind the Sheriff of Piltover and leaped up to suppress her. Ashe then sent a volley of freezing arrows into the fray, and Soraka swung her staff to grant the archer with extra mana. Caitlyn broke free of the claws that assaulted her from behind and turned to sprint towards Vi, who was charging up an attack in the direction of the wolf-man. Vi passed Caitlyn to give Warwick a robotic sucker punch while Ashe loosed another arrow. Two seconds off the string, the arrow grew to twenty times its size and hurdled directly at the fleeing sheriff, slamming into her and freezing her where she stood. Ashe then sprinted forward to finish her off, sending an arrow whistling through the air and slamming into Caitlyn's back, laying her out on the ground with a groan.

"First blood!" the Rift Announcer proclaimed.

"Shit," Vi huffed, turning now to get away from Warwick, whose persistent slashing was regenerating his health a lot faster than Vi could swing her fists. Ashe then swung her bow around to aim at the pink haired woman who was charging another attack intended for the Frost Archer.

Though Ashe's arrows slowed the assailant's advance, it didn't keep the metal fists from smashing into her face. She was knocked into the air as Vi prepared to throw another punch, but was instantly silenced by a spell from Soraka, who'd pushed her way through the minions to get back into attacking range. A slightly dazed Ashe raised her bow again and shot another volley, slowing the woman even more before she began rapid-firing icy arrows into her armor, chipping away at her dwindling health. Another frozen volley finished the job, prompting another announcement to ring out over the battlefield. Ashe's summoner immediately began to recall her to base.

With a new advantage, Ashe and Soraka quickly took the turret in their lane and moved to help their other teammates. Despite the success in bottom lane, Tryndamere had been struggling keeping the two opponents in top lane off his turret, and Veigar and Nidalee were taking turns prodding at each other in the middle. Ashe began to jog up the top lane to help Tryndamere push Darius and Riven back to their own turret while Soraka ran to help Veigar.

"Ashe," Tryndamere acknowledged the hooded figure that stopped next to him and shot a volley into the minion wave in front of them.

"If you'd like to go back and heal, I think I can hold them off until you come back," Ashe offered.

She could hear him scoff.

_Alright then. _Ashe took a deep breath to check her irritation at the heavily muscled swordsman.

"Can you land an arrow on one of 'em?" Tryndamere asked, as another wave of enemy minions waddled out in front of the Noxian bruisers.

_Wait for Warwick to get there_, Wendell thought in Ashe's head.

"The positioning's no good. Let them push," Ashe replied, sniping a few more creeps from the crowd.

"What's the positioning have to do with anything?" Tryndamere chided. "I can take at least one of them out, if you'd just freeze them."

"Just wait for—"

"NOW!" Tryndamere jumped into the middle of the fighting minions and swung his impossibly large blade unrelentingly at Riven, who countered with a few swipes of her own. Ashe darted past the mindless herd at her waist and began chunking into Riven's health with arrows so cold, they were actually freezing the champion's armor where they hit, and doing much worse when they met with areas of unarmored skin. Darius moved between Riven and Tryndamere, who was taking way more damage than he should've been.

"Tryndamere! Back off!" Ashe called.

"No way! We can win!"

"Your health! You're too low!"

"I'm fine! Shut up and shoot that damn arrow!"

_Ashe, Warwick's almost there_, Wendell whispered uncertainly in her ear.

"Ugh! Fine!"

And with that, Ashe let loose the same massive arrow she'd slammed into Caitlyn earlier in the match, effectively freezing Darius and slowing Riven's retreat with the spray of frost that exploded around its mark, the Hand of Noxus.

In the moments that followed, a blood-chilling howl erupted from the throat of the lupine creature that exploded into the lane from the river just as Tryndamere's health dwindled down to its last few hit points and Darius' summoner casted fire onto the dying man. Wendell then suddenly directed Ashe towards Riven and cast a spell that allowed the Queen to blink toward the wounded woman in a flash of light, and fire one last arrow to send her floating back to their team fountain. Just as quickly as her own attack, Ashe found herself gasping for air with a giant Noxian war-axe hooked around her neck that was suddenly flinging her back into Darius' steel plated chest. The Noxian took a few searing swings before Ashe could break free and fire a frosted volley of arrows at him to give her time to run away. She was shocked to be met by two pairs of glowering red eyes as she turned on her heel towards the turret.

"Get back!" demanded Tryndamere. Though his voice was the same, the bloodlust in his features twisted his face into something barely even human, let alone the usually decently handsome likeness of Tryndamere.

Warwick leapt viscously at Darius, letting a hungry rumble seep through his teeth in the moment that his claws dug into the Noxian's armor. Tryndamere spun forward, reaching his sword out to slash at their opponent's back, bringing him to the edge of death. Ashe ran forward shouting.

"Tryndamere, the turret!"

"Don't worry about it, Princess, I can handle it!" he grumbled over his shoulder.

"No! Really! You're going to run out of steam before you kill him! Let him go!"

_Ashe, you're going to have to finish him. Run around through the jungle_, Weylan instructed.

"Where the Hell are you going?" Tryndamere yelled at the cape that disappeared into the bush.

"Just back off!" Ashe shouted again. But the barbarian thought for sure he had Darius. That is, until he began to feel the stinging of turret fire in his left shoulder. As his rage wore off he cursed Ashe under his breath, even though he knew she'd seen it coming. He took another spinning swing at Darius, whose summoner flashed him away, milliseconds before a final blow from the turret burned into Tryndamere's back.

With no sign of Ashe or Warwick, Darius ran to a small bush in his lane where his summoner began to recall him to the fountain. The blue magic was just about to teleport him when a fatal arrow from another of Ashe's volleys buried itself into his side.

Just as Ashe started back through the jungle for the river, a warning rang out in her head in Soraka's liquid voice.

_Nidalee's headed for you. Warwick's too far away and Veigar's Hell-bent on destroying the middle turret. I've got a heal for you, but you've got to dodge the – _

Just then, a spear hurtled through the air and glanced off of Ashe's left hip, ripping open her side and tearing the now crimson-stained white cinch at her waist. She yelped, sent an icy volley into the direction the spear came from, and, now ridiculously low on mana, ran. She realized her mistake instantly as she raced through the long grasses and bushes in the jungle, the blades swishing and swaying submissively around her. A loud roar from behind let her know just how serious the mistake was.

Nidalee was on her in an instant, her cougar form leaping through the brush and grabbing Ashe by the ankle. It only took two swipes and Ashe's consciousness was floating above the battle-ground in much the same way it felt to be summoned. Though her clothing was still stained with her own blood, any pain she'd felt before the death was instantaneously gone.

_You know Wendell, this magic really gets me every time. It's always exactly the same. Without fail. How hard is it to facilitate a fake death?_

Wendell laughed.

_Why? Does Her Highness have some use for a fake death?_

_Only that it's truly the only state of being where everything seems to not matter at all. It's like for a few seconds, I can't do anything anyway, so why worry until I get back to the fountain?_ Ashe thought to her summoner, who was quite amused by the notion.

_So THAT'S why you participate in the League,_ Wendell laughed, _to get a few seconds of peace?_

Ashe sighed, her mood changing dramatically as real life flooded back into her mind.

_Not just a few seconds, Summoner. Much more than a few seconds of peace may yet come from this. As a Freljordian yourself, pay mind to that. _

* * *

Tryndamere cursed loudly behind Ashe, though she could only barely hear the profanity over the imploding Nexus next to her. The voice of the Rift Announcer seemed to twist a knife in his side as she declared the opposing team's victory. Ashe suppressed a petulant smirk at the dark grin that crossed Darius' face. He'd accounted for nearly half of her kills, but would still probably go out to Singed's Toxic Tavern that night and gloat about the few plays in which he'd actually made a difference.

_Deep breath. It's just a game to them. As it should be_, Ashe thought to herself; and only herself, now that the mind-link between her and Wendell was severed with the destroyed Nexus.

Ashe checked her expression when she noticed Caitlyn walking up to her with an outstretched hand.

"Straight shooting, Frost Archer. Those arrows are quite a force to face. I envy your aim."

"The best sniper in Valoran envies my shooting ability? I am deeply honored by the compliment, Sherriff," Ashe replied, bowing her head and shaking Caitlyn's hand. There was no mistaking it. Caitlyn _never_ missed. The only way to avoid her bullets was to duck behind someone else.

"Hope I didn't bruise that pretty face of yours too bad, there, Frosty," Vi chuckled as she sauntered up next to Caitlyn, who rolled her eyes and elbowed the armored woman in the side.

"For God's sake, Vi, mind your manners."

Vi spat into the dirt before holding out her hand for Ashe to shake.

"Seriously though, good game."

Ashe met the handshake much stronger than Vi had expected. A slightly impressed frown crossed her face before Caitlyn led her partner off the battlefield toward the fountain which now acted as a portal back to the Institute. Tryndamere, who'd been brooding to himself next to the remains of a Nexus turret snuck a quick up and down at Caitlyn's back as she passed him.

"Good game, ladies," he called after them. They waved but didn't turn around. Ashe heard Vi chortle again at Caitlyn, who promptly punched her companion in the shoulder pad. Tryndamere's approach found Ashe subconsciously retreating into the depths of her cape. _Does he look at every woman that way? What a pig…_

"You ready to talk about what the Hell that stunt was you pulled under Darius' turret?" he rasped as he came closer. Ashe pushed back her cowl and coolly raised an eyebrow.

"You're really going to blame me for your unnecessary death to a turret?"

"If you'd shot the damn arrow when I asked in the first place, I wouldn't have had to dive him. It put me behind. I didn't have enough gold to tank up in items before Nidalee picked you off. Once she got a kill, that was it."

"Ah, so that's my fault too?" she smiled as she turned toward the fountain.

"You ran into the JUNGLE after Soraka told you she was coming! What were you thinking?"

"Well I didn't have a lot of options since I had to go clean up after you, now did I?"

Ashe was slightly heated now. She crossed her arms and spun around to face him defiantly, but was surprised to find him only a few steps behind her.

"Don't you get all pissy with me, _Princess_. Don't think I can't handle myself just because you're doing me a favor."

"Oh, and now it's about your pride, huh? Is that it?" she closed the short gap between them, so that she could talk under her breath. The Noxians were still celebrating on the other side of the Nexus. "You think I don't know what it's like to sit and watch my people die? Do you really think that can't _feel_ the pain that strangles my heart and rips the breath right out of my chest as _my kin_ are hunted down by _monsters_?"

Tryndamere's voice dropped an octave, his face hardening and his fists clenching at his sides.

"_Your _kin? You think my people belong to _you_?"

Ashe felt eyes on them as she remembered that she was still on the Rift. A quick glance told her that Riven, Darius and Warwick had noticed the Freljordians arguing. She took a quick breath and half a step back from Tryndamere before she responded.

"No, Tryndamere. I think that _your_ people belong to the Freljord, just like _my _people. And whether you like it or not, that makes them _our_ people."

Tryndamere's brow furrowed deeper at this, but Ashe was able to relax her face and turn back towards the portal, all eyes undeniably following her to the platform.

* * *

Back in her room at the Institute, Ashe opened a chestnut wardrobe that had been placed in the bedroom in lieu of a closet. She pulled out a new dress and cinch and laid her cloak out on the bed so that she could make sure there were no tears or stains in it before deciding to just grab a fresh one of those from the chest, too. After she'd changed out of her ruined clothes, she began to strap her shoulder pads, gauntlets and gloves back into place. With gloved hands, she pulled her thigh-high leggings and slipped her feet into her gold-plated boots and walked over to the mirror on the wall next to the intricately carved wardrobe. As she dropped a shoulder to make sure her cape was straight, a loud pounding came at her door, and she could only hope that it wasn't who she knew it was.

She hesitated.

"Ashe, I know you're in there." Tryndamere's voice was remarkably softer than it had just been after the match. But she rolled her eyes anyhow.

She didn't answer.

"Look, I'm sorry for my temper back there. I know you're just trying to help. I just really hate being pinned up against a wall when it comes to my own tribes."

Still silence. She heard him sigh as one of his fists thudded against the door.

"You are still planning on going back to Avarosa before the Noxians get there, aren't you?" he asked, sounding suddenly worried at the thought that Ashe could've changed her mind. He needed her. He wasn't the negotiating type. He was more the "decapitate now, ask questions never" type. She sighed loudly on her way through her apartment to answer the door.

"Of course I'm going back," she said, opening the door for him. His turquoise eyes apologized profusely as she assured him. "I have to, Tryndamere. They're my people."

"_Our_ people," he corrected.

"Right," she agreed. "Let's go." She slid past him into the corridor and began walking towards the East Entrance where the League kept a stable for the champions who preferred to ride horses, or any other animal for that matter, to and from the Institute. There were special accommodations made for Nunu's yeti and Sejuani's boar, since the animals were prone to wrecking things when they were let indoors. Ashe passed through the stable to the back right stall and unlocked the half-door that kept her gray Bashkir Curly mare in the large, luxury pen. A stable hand was replacing the bedding in the stall when Ashe slipped in and clicked her tongue at the horse, which whinnied in response and tossed her head at the Queen.

"Going for a ride, Your Highness?" the boy asked.

"All the way to Freljord," Ashe replied, reaching out to touch the horse's muzzle. "How's she been? I haven't ridden in a few days."

"I lunged her a little today. She's fit. Definitely up for a trip," the stable hand smiled.

"Good. Thank you for taking care of her for me," she winked.

The boy swallowed hard. He must've been about twelve or thirteen. And Ashe had seen him around the stable before, staring at her. People told her she was pretty. A "true Avarosan beauty" they said. But she never really believed it. Inside she felt only slightly less awkward and quirky than she'd been when she was this boy's age, except for when she forced herself to act like she was expected to act. Then she felt tense and, lately, stuck. Very, very stuck.

"See you around," Ashe smiled as she caught the horse.

"Bye, Queen Ashe," the boy waved, his voice cracking at his excitement. He blushed and quickly turned back to his work, cringing at the giggle that Ashe was unable to stifle before she led the horse out into the hallway where Tryndamere was waiting with his own curly haired, midnight black stallion.

"Ready?" he asked.

Ashe nodded as she pulled herself onto the saddle-less mare and ran her fingers up the horse's neck. She leaned forward, whispered something into the horse's swiveling ears, and willed the mount forward. Tryndamere swung a leg over his stallion's back and followed suit after the Queen swinging North on an outlying Noxian path to the Iron Spike Mountains.


	5. Politics

Chapter 5: Politics

Ashe and Tryndamere arrived at the gates to Avarosa just after noon. The watch there had been tripled, and Ashe could spot extra guards taking watch atop the walls around the town. Siska had been busy this morning. The guards were armed head to toe in the best armor Avarosa owned. And the freshly forged blades at their hips, which Ashe could now get a good look at as the champions rode nearer, seemed to shimmer at the prospect of Noxian bloodshed. The nervous hands that kneaded their hilts suddenly stiffened as they recognized the leaders and their mounts, and the guards snapped hard into attention as their queen stopped before them.

"At ease," Ashe commanded. "Have the Barbarians arrived?"

"Yes my Queen," a guard answered. "The women and children have been taken straight to the Estate per Weylan's instruction. General Siska is currently fitting the warriors with all the armor we have left, but, as you can probably tell, most of it has been checked out already."

Ashe nodded, casting a glimpse at her dark haired companion. A wry half-smile had slid its way across his face.

"Something wrong, King Tryndamere?" she raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled.

"From what I can tell, your armor wouldn't fit my men, whether or not there was enough to go around. Seriously, do you people eat?"

The six guards at the gate remained silent, prompting Ashe to shift uncomfortably on her horse. It was true that Avarosans were generally lean-muscled, but to imply that her men were weak was an insult she could not tolerate. At the same time, she could not voice her distaste for Tryndamere's musings in front of her soldiers. If she did so, how could she expect them to treat the Barbarians with anything but newfound hostility? She forced herself to smile, first at the guards, and then back at Tryndamere.

"What Avarosa lacks in weight we can more than make up for in speed and endurance," she bowed her head. "Our combined forces will be more than a match for any Noxian war party. Come, now. We've little time before they arrive."

Her words easily won over her men, who moved aside to allow the two of them passage into the town bazaar. Ashe dismounted, shooting shards of ice at Tryndamere with her eyes. He caught the warning and rolled his eyes, swinging his leg over the horse's rear and handing the lead to a stable hand who'd hurried over to put the animals away. Ashe replaced her cowl over her head, which had been pushed down by the wind on their ride. *

From the shelter of the hood, she hissed a warning to the king as he strode alongside her through the bustling heart of the city.

"You listen here," she whispered, "the way _I_ see your people and the way _Avarosans_ see your people are two completely different things. I _know_ we are all of Freljord and should act as such. My people, particularly the elders, would prefer to hold onto the ancient grudge of the Three Sisters War. Right now is not the time for taking cheap shots at my men. I may lead this country however I please, as long as I have the approval of the elders. One misstep, Tryndamere, and they'll call for impeachment."

"Are you really on such bad terms with them?" he whispered back, surprised at the hostility he sensed towards the Avarosan clan elders.

"They grow impatient with me," Ashe sighed. She found herself wondering why she was telling Tryndamere of all people this, but part of her knew he'd be more inclined to understand her position. He had his own tribe elders to please, too.

"Impatient? With you?" Tryndamere couldn't hide his sarcasm.

Ashe's eyes rolled for what seemed like the hundredth time that day at the man that towered over her.

"Forget it," she mumbled as her pace quickened down the path. She allowed the people in the street to pass between her and Tryndamere, slightly hoping she'd lose him in the crowd. But the king was so tall, there was no way she'd get away. And it wasn't like he wouldn't be able to find the Estate anyway.

"Slow down," he huffed, catching up, and throwing some elbows into people going about their preparations for the Noxians. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Whatever, let's just get up to the Estate. Anivia is waiting."

* * *

The amount of people bustling about the castle was a pure shock to Ashe. It was normally quiet and deserted when she was there, unless there was a meal on the table. She was also surprised at how few people she actually knew. Most of the people meandering about were the Barbarian guests either being fitted for armor, or shown to one of the many guest rooms around the place. Ashe spotted Weylan leaning against a wall holding a notebook, scribbling away as people checked in with him. She could hardly contain the smile that crossed her face as he looked up and acknowledged her, beckoning her company with a flick of his dirty blonde hair and a sideways glance at the list in his hands with his amber eyes. Ashe turned to Tryndamere.

"I'll go let Anivia know we're here. Assemble your council and take them down the hall to the dining room. Tell them to make themselves comfortable and to feel free to ask the servants to bring them something warm to drink. Make yourselves comfortable," Ashe said, immediately regretting that last bit.

Tryndamere nodded, catching the hint of a smile on the Queen's face. But he decided it was none of his business. He turned to go find the Barbarian Council.

"I hope all has been handled as you see fit in your absence, my Queen," Weylan smiled as Ashe came to stand next to him.

"It appears to be going well, Captain. I assume there are scouts at the towers?"

"Yes, Your Highness, we've sent parties to the North and West watchtowers. The Noxians definitely won't be sneaking up on us."

"Good job, friend," she smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's the list for?"

"Just so we have a list of who's staying where in the castle. Most of the Barbarians don't want to stay the night, though. They say they don't generally sleep in 'anything that could squash them in their sleep' like the castle. The majority wish to leave once the Noxians are on their way."

Ashe's face couldn't hide the doubt in her mind.

"They think this will be over by tonight?"

Weylan hesitated.

"They are saying that it _will_ be over by tonight."

"Well that doesn't sound like the peaceful trading I'd had in mind at all," Ashe mumbled to him, irritated at the stance the Barbarians had chosen to take.

"I don't believe it's supposed to, Your Highness."

As an Avarosan Guard walked by, Ashe grabbed him by the shoulder, pulled him in front of Weylan and snatched the list out of the Captain's hands.

"You can handle this, right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guard bowed.

Ashe turned back to Weylan.

"I sent Tryndamere to the dining room. Where is Anivia?"

"I believe she's outside in the courtyard. Would you like me to fetch her?"

"No," the Queen corrected, "you go to the dining room and keep the Barbarians and the elders entertained. I'll go get Anivia myself."

Weylan bowed, placing a fist over his heart, and took to his orders. Ashe simultaneously began making her way back to the front door of the castle, which was wide open with people milling in and out. The courtyard was full of half-finished tents with Barbarians sitting casually at their flaps. Ashe found Anivia under the icy peak where Tryndamere and the Freljord Queen would hopefully soon address the crowds that had gathered.

"Anivia," Ashe smiled as she approached the ice bird.

Anivia bowed.

"If this doesn't go well, the Barbarians plan to attack," Ashe whispered urgently.

"They will find it difficult to attack the Noxians through a wall of ice," Anivia responded, matter-of-factly.

Ashe nodded.

"How do I keep it from getting to that?" Ashe mumbled, mostly to herself, but purposely loud enough for Anivia to hear. The Queen, despite the fact that she'd ruled for five years, still felt helpless in confrontational situations between her people and another city-state. The tribes were becoming increasingly easier to deal with since the fighting has been directed more towards Noxus than each other, but Ashe and the Avarosans hadn't really come into conflict with anyone since Ashe had signed off on the city wall. Anivia had at least seen conflicts like this one first-hand, regardless of how well she could actually recall the memories. She had an innate sense of how to handle situations. Ashe often sought her council.

"If you are too accusing of the Noxians, you may instill a riot without their help. If you compromise with them, you may lose the support of the Barbarians," Anivia observed, closing her eyes. "It is imperative, My Queen, that you remain somewhere between the two. You must be firm, and unyielding, while also being diplomatic and calm. You do it all the time when you go and talk to the High Council at the Institute."

"Yes, and that's been going oh so well…" Ashe trailed.

"I'll be at your side, Your Highness," the bird said, opening her eyes now. "We should go speak with the elders."

And with that, they turned to re-enter the castle.

* * *

Ashe could find no single word to describe the atmosphere of the usually peaceful dining room. Tryndamere, with his council of four elders and what Ashe could only assume were two high ranking warriors, sat at the far end of the long table. Ashe's own council, consisting of the Avarosan elders, Weylan, and Siska, were sitting at the complete opposite end of the table. The opposing teams mumbled among themselves all the while shooting distrustful glances down the lane the table seemed to be making. All the turrets were down and each Nexus was vulnerable. But no one wanted to make a wrong move. No one wanted to attack first.

She quickly broke the almost-silence, not wanting to allow them to whisper and stare at each other any longer.

"Well, now that everyone is here," Ashe took a seat in the middle of the table and offered Anivia the seat next to her, "we should talk strategy."

A shaky, but loud-spoken elder at Tryndamere's left spoke up first.

"Well the Noxians don't know we're here, right? Why not just set up an ambush?" Even a few elders in Ashe's council nodded and pondered the idea.

"I would rather not fight with the Noxians today," Ashe began. One of the younger, heavily muscled Barbarians could not contain his outrage.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" he hissed at the Queen.

"They've been _killing _us out there," the other warrior added. "And you want us to allow them to leave Freljord _alive_?"

"I knew you were ignorant to our struggle, but I didn't realize you had your head _that _far up your…"

"Easy, Bryndle," Tryndamere raised a hand to silence the outraged man who'd interjected first. "I think this is the best strategy for us today. There is no chance of our winning this battle today, boys."

Tryndamere's council looked incredulously at him, and then at Ashe, who was just as dumbfounded by his compliance as they were. It wasn't five hours ago that the two were at odds in Tryndamere's Institute room.

An older man with a jagged scar across his face and a slightly misshapen nose looked up. It was then that Ashe realized he was missing his left eye as well.

"I think our people have seen enough bloodshed this winter," he added. "I agree with Tryndamere and Queen Ashe."

The man received dubious glances from most of his companions and a few of the Avarosan elders.

"Personally, I've no qualms with attacking the Noxians and forcing them to return their prisoners to the Barbarians," Alvar, the oldest and most respected of Avarosa's elders, rasped from his seat at the end of the table. Weylan rolled his eyes at his grandfather's stubbornness. He _would_ say something like that. Ashe threw a comforting blue gaze to her friend before continuing.

"Anivia has scouted out the Noxians headed our way. They outnumber us greatly, even with the Barbarian warriors at our side. We wouldn't be able to hold them off, and though they're tired and frozen, they are equipped to stand off for at least a week, if not longer," Ashe stated gravely.

Leoné, the only female elder in the council, placed a skeleton-like hand to her face and rubbed her eyes.

"It would seem our leaders have made up their minds anyway, Alvar," she grumbled. "I figured this would be Princess Peace's stance, but I didn't realize the Great Barbarian King had gone so soft."

Tryndamere's face flushed with anger, but it was Ashe who spoke first.

"The chances of us coming out victorious are slim. They aren't chances I'm willing to take with the lives of our citizens, Leoné. I won't risk everything we've accomplished so haphazardly."

"Haphazardly?" Leoné spat. "You think it is unwise and foolish to fight for your freedom? And for the freedom of the tribes you so vehemently defend and wish to ally with? Choose a side, sweetheart. This old heart can't take all of this flip flopping. How can you expect me to get behind you when you don't even know what you stand for? What would your mother say to you if she saw you now?"

_You're weak. You're a coward. You're not fit to lead this tribe._ Ashe's mother's voice whispered poisonously in her head. _Confront Noxus. Make them fear you. Make them pay. _

Ashe's face turned cold as she glared defiantly at the old bat that had just insulted her. She fought the anger in her chest that threatened to break her composure. A twisted, furious expression crossed her face, but only long enough for two people to notice; Weylan, since he knew Ashe's face well enough to recognize an expression she didn't make often, and Tryndamere, who knew rage so well that he'd recognize it on the face of anyone.

"I agree with Queen Ashe and King Tryndamere," Siska said after a few moments of uneasy silence. "We don't have the means to take the Noxian war parties down. A conflict will bring us nothing but loss and destruction."

"That's convincing enough for me," Thobias, the youngest of the Avarosan elders, the town's book keeper and historian, added. "If you truly believe this could spell destruction for us, I'm all for a peaceful trade for the prisoners' return. Avarosa is finally on the rise out of a long slump that's handicapped us for far too long. I don't want to stunt our growth now. It's not worth it."

"Peace would be a nice change of pace for my people as well," Tryndamere contributed. Ashe was suddenly very grateful he was in the room and that they'd had that conversation earlier. She blinked her gratitude to him, but she wasn't sure if he'd caught it.

"Your Highness," came a voice at the door, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the Noxians are here. And Katarina wishes to speak with you."

Weylan went rigid at the sound of the Noxian's name, but Ashe nodded and stood.

"We don't have any more time. Tryndamere, since we're in agreement, I feel no further need for discussion."

"I couldn't agree more," he smiled, rising from his chair. A genuine smile from him re-affirmed her dedication to keeping today as peaceful as possible.

Weylan and Siska joined Ashe at the door before all three of them turned to leave. Tryndamere, Bryndle and the second warrior followed suit shortly after.

* * *

The impenetrable ring of people that had formed in the main foyer of the castle was an instant cue that something was not quite right. People parted when they realized Ashe and Tryndamere were trying to get through, but their eyes would not break from whatever it was at the center of the circle they'd made. Weylan and Tryndamere saw what the commotion was about a few seconds before Ashe since they could see over the heads of the crowd. The defensive stance Weylan took at her side tipped Ashe off to what she was about to find at the center of the assembly. A sly-looking Katarina stood poised in the middle of the circle with a Barbarian child, likely the same page she'd sent with her letter, standing shaking at her hip. His hands were unbound, but Katarina kept a hand on his shoulder. The two Noxian soldiers that flanked the Blade of Noxus cast weary looks around them. It was obvious they didn't believe they'd be leaving the castle alive.

The Noxians were dressed rather warmly, but one of Katarina's guards could not suppress the slight chattering of his teeth. Katarina wore her usual battle outfit, midriff and all. But not a single shiver betrayed her if she was cold. Ashe mused that her frozen heart left her invulnerable to the chill. The scar over her eye was much more visible than usual, though, since the cold did leave the Noxian's skin much more pale than usual.

"Miss DuCouteau," Ashe said, emerging from the wall of on-lookers.

"Nice to see you, Your Highness," Katarina smirked. "And Tryndamere, I'm genuinely surprised to see you here. Had enough of the forest, I suppose?"

Tryndamere clenched a fist to keep himself from drawing his sword.

"Uh uhn," Katarina tisked, "now don't get all upset. I'm simply here to negotiate."

She'd planned this all along. She knew Ashe would bring the Barbarians to Avarosa. She may have even known Anivia had been to their camp to spy on them.

"Let's hear it then," Ashe prompted.

"Five days and a scout for each war party," Katarina demanded.

"Two days, and we'll let you leave alive," Tryndamere growled.

"We all know that you're not prepared to start an all-out war with us, Tryndamere. Don't kid yourself. Or your poor people. I think they've been given enough false hope for one year. The ones back at camp think you're planning an ambush to rescue them. But we all know that's not true, now is it?"

The Barbarians in the crowd looked at Tryndamere expectantly. He remained silent.

"All of the Barbarians in your company are to be released immediately," Ashe began. "Then we'll talk provisions and scouts through the mountains."

"We need food. A lot of it," Katarina narrowed her eyes, and tightened the grip on the child's shoulder. He was on the verge of tears.

"Release your prisoners, and we'll talk about it," the Queen responded, taking a step toward the child.

"And what leverage would I have if I simply let them go?" Katarina asked.

"You don't need leverage when you have my word," Ashe assured the fiery-haired woman. Katarina chuckled before disappearing into the air. Suddenly, Ashe was pulled to the middle of the circle by her neck. The child ran into the crowd as Katarina and Ashe took his place at the center of attention. Most of the gathered people were shocked to silence, but one person stepped forward into the circle, sword drawn.

"Weylan," Ashe ordered from behind the knife at her neck, "be still."

"Is it enough leverage to let you know that I could kill you before you could even blink, archer? Does that work well enough? Or do I need to tell you how many men I've brought with me?"

"We get it, Katarina," Ashe answered. "You're powerful and dangerous. We respect that. We do not seek a battle today."

"Could've fooled me with all the new armor. And tall, blonde and stupid over there seems to _really_ want to run me through," Katarina sneered. "I just want to be sure we're on the same page, Your Majesty."

Katarina brushed the flat of the blade against Ashe's skin. But the Queen didn't move. Weylan, on the other hand took another step forward.

"Let her go," he commanded.

Tryndamere placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Put it away, Weylan," Ashe said in an even voice.

"You should take your orders a little more seriously, Captain," Katarina hissed.

_How does she know that?_ Ashe thought to herself. _How in Avarosa's name does she know Weylan is the Captain of my guard? She's never been here before._

"She'll be fine," Tryndamere said quietly to Weylan. "Katarina needs her alive. Not to mention the fuss it'd cause at the Institute."

Weylan hesitantly sheathed his sword, but his hand remained on the hilt.

"I'm doing you a favor, really," Katarina whispered in Ashe's ear. "At least now they know you're not just afraid of us. You're smart enough to realize what you need to do to survive this encounter. Now they have the experience to understand why you won't attack us tonight."

"Take your spies with you. They aren't welcome here," Ashe responded, barely able to control the anger that, with each breath, pushed out against her lungs until she thought she was going to burst.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Katarina laughed, releasing her hold on the Queen. "I wondered how long it'd take for you to get that."

As Katarina's blade slid away from Ashe's neck, the Queen turned to face the assassin. She felt the control over her emotions begin to return to her, and her face froze in a calm and unaffected expression.

"We'll release your Barbarians when we're ready to leave. In the meantime, you should probably get to gathering provisions. There are a lot of hungry soldiers out there."

The gathered mass of people parted fearfully as the Noxians made their way back to the door of the castle and disappeared out into the courtyard. Once they were gone, everyone started murmuring to their friends and family members around them.

"Well?" Weylan asked as he flanked his queen, his right hand clenching and releasing the air at his side.

"Start loading up sleds. Start in the cellars with the dried provisions. If we can give them enough preserved food to last a few days, maybe we won't have to give them the fresh food from last week."

Weylan nodded and turned to leave, but walked directly into Tryndamere, who'd somehow quietly snuck up on them.

"So that's it then? No trying to compromise?"

"That's where we're going," Ashe said, determined. She stormed off into the frozen afternoon air.

"Oh boy," Tryndamere sighed. He directed his men to assist the Avarosans in their preparations before running after the fuming archer. What he found on the other side of the doorway was a complete and utter shock to him.

Three Barbarians and three Avarosans stood at the center of the courtyard restraining the two Noxian guards, who'd not been expecting an attack after how smoothly things had gone for them in the castle, while a just as startled Katarina held a little girl at knifepoint as a human shield to protect her from the frozen arrow that trained a straight path to the Noxian's head.

"Let her go, Katarina," Ashe called from behind her bow.

"Let my men go first," she spat, pressing the knife closer to the child's neck. The crowd was holding back the girl's mother, who was screaming.

"Ashe, what are you doing?" Tryndamere's voice boomed behind her.

"Apparently, the citizens have a different opinion than we do about the disagreement we find ourselves in," Ashe told him, simply, not taking her eyes from her mark.

An Avarosan man struggling with a guard looked up as he heard this.

"We don't mind the Noxians staying outside the city tonight, but we will not give up the food we've been saving all winter for them. No way."

The Barbarian helping him spoke up too.

"And we're not about to help the people who've been murdering our friends and families for the last six months. That's unacceptable."

A woman from the crowd shouted her two cents as well.

"I'd rather fight together with the Avarosans than continue to cower alone in the woods!"

Katarina's eyes did not leave the Frost Archer. Her eyebrow twitched in frustration as her guards were disarmed behind her.

"It would appear, Miss Du Couteau, that we do not have an agreement that satisfies our people," Ashe called to the woman who kept her deathly grip on the child in her hands.

"I told the war party that if I didn't return within thirty minutes, they could attack the city," Katarina warned.

"Then I guess we need to settle this quickly, before anyone gets hurt," Tryndamere said, coming to stand next to Ashe.

"I'd personally like to discuss this civilly, since we're all human beings here," Ashe offered.

"It's not like we're bloodthirsty barbarians or anything," Tryndamere cracked maliciously. "I mean, the campaign _is_ over. Right?"

Katarina weighed her options in her head. She'd never expected the two Freljord tribes to work together. Period. Only to argue about what to do and eventually give in. It would be another hour before the second war party arrived.

"What do you want?" she finally asked, dropping the girl in the snow.

"You get to stay tonight," Ashe began, "and will receive enough provisions by daybreak to get you through the Piltover Pass."

"Some of my men will show you the safest way through the mountains in the morning," Tryndamere added, to which the men holding the guards grumbled.

"But you will release the prisoners," Ashe commanded.

"Tonight," the king clarified.

Katarina huffed and placed a hand on her hip.

"Well played, Snowflake," she said to Ashe. "I don't know how you reigned in rage-for-brains over there, but I applaud you. I honestly think no one could do it. What'd you do for him, huh? We all know how his system works. A favor for a _favor_."

"Can it, and get moving," Weylan's voice came from Ashe's other side. For the first time since the skirmish started, Ashe looked away from Katarina.

"Sure thing, Captain," she sarcastically saluted. "Don't get so pushy. Geez."

The glance Katarina threw Ashe as she turned around was more malicious than any of the twenty-some glares she'd received that day. She'd just had an idea, and whatever it was would surely come back to haunt the Freljord. The only question on Ashe's mind while she watched the Noxians collect their blades and walk away was what they'd just inspired in the twisted mind of the Blade of Noxus.


	6. Friendly Fire

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this up. I really would like some input on this. I'm not sure if I like it the way it is or not. Hopefully, I'll see you in my Inbox! :)**

* * *

Chapter 6: Friendly Fire

The Barbarians were released later that night per the demands of the Freljordians, while the Noxians, in return were fed and allowed to rest. Most of the soldiers outwardly resented needing help from the natives, but their eyes betrayed their true yearnings for a hot plate and a safe bed, both of which they took hungrily from the Avarosans who begrudgingly passed out bowls of steaming broth with stewed vegetables from the greenhouse and small chunks of dried rabbit. In striking contrast to the expressions of the Avarosans and the Noxians, were the expressions of the Barbarian families as the line of prisoners filed through the city gate. Not a single Barbarian could contain the hopeful smiles of weary travelers being reunited with loved ones. None, that was, except for Tryndamere.

"Hey," Ashe greeted him quietly, coming to stand next to him at the edge of the bazaar. "You should be happier. We won!"

He gave her an unimpressed _hmph_ before crossing his arms and turning in to face her slightly.

"Did we, though?"

"They've released your people, Tryndamere. They'll be out of our hair by noon tomorrow. What more do you want?"

"You can't possibly give me what I want. Not through bargains or bribes. Not through battle or bloodshed. No one can give me what I want," he mumbled distantly.

"Tryndamere," Ashe said, questioning his tone. He simply glanced into the bazaar where the last of the prisoners had just come through. Bryndle strode up to them and made his report.

"That's the last of them, sir. All of the trucks have been checked. All of the tents have been emptied."

"How many?" Tryndamere asked, avoiding meeting the eyes of either companion.

"There are still thirty-six unaccounted for."

Tryndamere nodded, glanced at Ashe, the bazaar, and then turned silently to leave. But Ashe didn't notice his absence. She'd followed his gaze into the square where she saw, surrounded by the joyous reunions, a woman sitting on her knees staring out the now closing city gate, crying. Bryndle caught Ashe's gaze.

"Her son was thought to be among the Noxians."

"And he wasn't?" Ashe whispered back, almost afraid to ask.

"Well, he isn't now."

It was one thing to know that a loved one had been killed in battle. It had happened to Ashe time and time again since she'd been very young. Her father had been killed in battle when she was only four years old. And then her mother when she'd been fifteen. There were a few friends and relatives in between as well. But, between the five years of peace in Avarosa and the fake dying on the Rift, Ashe wasn't really sure if she knew what death was anymore. Her heart hadn't skipped a beat, even as Katarina's cool blade lay in wait at the hollow of her throat.

When Ashe turned back to Bryndle, he was gone and she was alone at the edge of the bazaar. The Barbarians were slowing moving back up to where their camps were pitched at the Estate and a few Avarosans were securing the gate and taking up posts on the walls. Ashe felt a warm presence suddenly step up a bit too closely behind her.

"My Queen?" Weylan reached out and touched Ashe on the shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Ashe peaked over her shoulder at him, but said nothing.

"You look exhausted, Your Highness. Please, allow me to escort you to your room?"

Ashe nodded and grasped his outstretched arm at the elbow. They walked in silence to the castle, passing by the Elder's Den, the place the tribe elders went to be cared for and doted on by the doctors and nursing staff in the city. Alvar, Leoné and Thobias sat talking excitedly to one another on the porch of the cozy rest house. When Alvar saw Ashe and Weylan walking by, a curious, possibly even concerned frown, crossed his face. When he noticed Ashe looking at him, he smiled, placed a hand over his heart in a salute and turned quickly back to the conversation.

_Weird, _Ashe thought. _They're usually so much less… lively._

"They're staying the night, I suppose?" Ashe asked Weylan.

"Yes ma'am. They've decided to see the Noxians off in the morning."

"There's still one with no room," Ashe sighed as the two of them spotted Tryndamere in the courtyard checking in on people. His demeanor now was completely different. He was laughing heartily with his men and shaking the hands of Barbarians he hadn't seen since they'd been taken by Noxus. He noticed Ashe and Weylan and came sauntering over to them.

"Your spirits are much higher, King Tryndamere," Ashe noted.

"That's what spirits do to the spirit, darling," he said, holding up a bottle of some hideously wreaking liquor. Ashe wasn't a drinker, and preferred for her men not to drink, particularly when a certain War-State was sleeping less than fifty feet from the front gate of the city.

"Tryndamere, is all that really necessary?" Ashe asked him, unable to hide her disdain for the substance that swished in the glass bottle.

"You wanted me to be happy, right? Well this is what makes me happy, Snowflake. Good drink with good friends and pretty ladies. I'm not hard to please."

"I thought no one could give you what you want a minute ago. And now you've got all you need? Booze and women?" Weylan shifted uneasily at Ashe's side as she hissed at the King. "And _don't _you _ever_ call me Snowflake again."

"Pardon me for interjecting, but I don't think this is really the time, Your Highness." Weylan shot a quick glance around the courtyard. People were staring.

"Just don't do anything stupid," Ashe finished, re-composing herself. She couldn't figure it out, but there was just something about Tryndamere that made her lose control of her temper. It was like her rage fed from his.

"This isn't my first snowstorm, Your Majesty. I can handle myself. Now if you'll excuse me…"

And with that, Tryndamere took a swig of the concoction in the bottle and turned to follow closely behind a Barbarian woman that had walked by and winked at him. Ashe rolled her eyes.

"Shall we?" Weylan offered his elbow to her again.

Ashe nodded and continued into the castle with Weylan. The halls were much less crowded than they'd been earlier that day. Everyone had either gone to their rooms or were outside in the courtyard celebrating with Tryndamere.

"I think you can log today away as a success, Your Highness," Weylan smiled.

"For Avarosa, yes, I suppose," she replied.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's just something Tryndamere said. It made me realize how disconnected the League makes me feel from reality; how abstract the games make death seem. I've died a million times over, sometimes to the same blade that found its way to my throat this afternoon. And I didn't even think once that she'd actually kill me. But at the same time, I know she would if the League didn't have so much power over Noxus. With me and Tryndamere out of the way, Noxus could easily take over the Freljord," Ashe paused and searched Weylan's face discreetly through the curtain of white hair that hid her face from him. She hadn't talked like this with him for some time. To be honest, in the last five years, she'd only talked like this with Anivia.

"I think maybe you should spend some time away from the Institute," Weylan suggested, smiling to himself as he led her to the staircase. "You could take a vacation of sorts. Spend time hunting and riding like we used to do when we were kids… I know everyone around here would like it if you were in town more often."

Ashe scoffed.

"Yeah. Right. The elders would just love it if I were around more often to pick at, wouldn't they?"

"I think they truly mean well, Your Highness. They want to follow you, but they're so strongly bound to the old ways… Give them more time. Five years may be a quarter of our lives, but it's barely a thirteenth of theirs. Even smaller for a few of them," he lightly jabbed his elbow at Ashe's side, making fun of the elders for being so old.

"You really think good old Alvar will come around some day?" Ashe asked, laughing.

"No. I think good old Alvar will be gone someday. For Avarosa's sake, he's seventy-eight years old already! And his heart is bitter and cold. I suppose a lifetime in the old Freljord could to that to a man. Not to mention how many children and grandchildren he lost on the way."

Ashe remained silent as they walked through the corridors. Weylan was Alvar's youngest, and only grandson. Of Alvar's own six children, only two of them were still alive; Weylan's aunt and his mother. The four brothers passed away in the same conflict Ashe's father was killed in. Weylan's dad died in the same battle that orphaned the Queen. All of Weylan's older cousins, whose ages ranged from late twenties to early forties, were women.

_Alvar must put a lot of pressure on him_, Ashe thought. _But surely Weylan would care more than this if his grandfather were to die. _

"Well, here we are," Weylan sighed as they reached Ashe's door.

"Thank you for walking with me, Captain," Ashe dipped her head and slipped her hand out of the crook of Weylan's elbow.

"It was my pleasure, Your Highness," he bowed.

Ashe couldn't help but feel that these interactions between her and her old friend had become more of a rehearsed formality than words with actual meaning. She also couldn't help but remember how Weylan had slipped last night and called her by her name instead of using one of her royal titles; or how natural it felt for him to flirt like that with her. She shook the thoughts from her head and reached for the knob next to her, but was surprised to find that the brass felt strikingly similar to the back of someone's hand. But for some reason, though both of them were genuinely surprised at the unanticipated contact, neither the Frost Archer, nor the Captain pulled away. They both just stared helplessly at the doorknob where Ashe's delicate fingers laid lightly over Weylan's knuckles.

Ashe could sense an internal debate going on behind Weylan's amber irises before she slowly pulled her hand away and placed it at her side.

"Sorry," she chuckled nervously. "You can open it."

Another curious expression crossed Weylan's face before he ultimately decided that whatever he was thinking was ridiculous. He turned the knob and gently pushed the door open for the Queen.

Ashe could feel her face glowing red, but was consoled by the pink flush across Weylan's cheeks. They both knew they'd lingered too long.

"Well, goodnight," he offered, stepping away from her.

"Yes, goodnight Captain," she agreed as she slipped through the door. Once safely on the other side, she pressed her ear hard to the pinewood. All she heard was a sigh and retreating footsteps.

Questions raced around her head as Ashe changed into her nightgown and walked across the room to the now moonlit window. It was dark in her room, but the night sky cast a misty blue haze that illuminated Ashe's baby blue gown, revealing the darker shadow of the Queen's body beneath it. She caught herself in the floor-length mirror on the adjacent wall and turned to a side view.

_When did that happen?_ Ashe asked herself, running a hand down her side. _Last time I checked, I was a bit more stick-like. _She turned back to face the mirror and pulled the garment close to her figure. She didn't remember when she went from wooden plank to hour glass in shape, but she supposed she couldn't remember a lot of things about herself. Everything was always about Avarosa and Freljord. She couldn't even remember if they celebrated her last birthday. _When is my birthday?_

Glancing at a calendar hanging across the room, she was relieved to find that it was only March. Her birthday was in November. _Or was it December?_

Ashe began feeling even more unsettled. _I can't even remember my own birthday. Maybe it is time for a vacation_. She sat down at the edge of her bed and ran a tired hand through her silvery hair before slipping under the covers and closing her eyes. As she drifted off, her mind wandered back to Weylan. _Why had I never noticed how handsome he was?_

* * *

A timid knock came early at Ashe's door, but the Frost Archer was already lying awake in her bed. She contemplated feigning sleep for a few seconds before the visitor cracked the door and whispered into the room.

"Ashe?" She had to strain to hear him, but Ashe knew who the voice belonged to. And yet, she had no idea how to respond.

"Tryndamere?" _What is he doing up here?_

"Can I come in for a second?" he said, pushing the door open a little further.

"Well I suppose you're going to come in anyway," Ashe grumbled, rolling her eyes and sitting up in her bed. The sun was just barely peeking through Ashe's window, making her room hardly light enough to see any detail on the Barbarian's body, but she could definitely make out his silhouette as he entered the room and sat down at the foot of her bed.

"Can I help you, King Tryndamere?" She wrinkled her nose at him. He reeked of alcohol, though he seemed to be sober at this point in time.

"I just… I wanted to…" he hesitated as if he didn't know exactly how to word what he was thinking.

Ashe pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her arms that she crossed over her knees.

"Just… Thank you," he finally finished.

"For what?" she asked.

"For the stand you took for us yesterday. For inspiring cooperation among our people. For working to bring the Freljord back together."

Ashe was dumbfounded. _Is he still drunk?_

"Are you feeling okay? Because it kind of sounded like you were thanking me for bringing peace to your people."

"Don't push it, Princess," Tryndamere mumbled. "I had a good talk with Bryndle last night and he said you were pretty upset about that woman in the bazaar whose son didn't come back. I felt bad for bursting your bubble, especially after the shit you went through to bring our loved ones home to us. So, I'll say it again. Thank you, Ashe."

"You're… You're welcome…" she stammered. _Is this a joke right now?_ _He actually thinks I buy for a minute that he cares about my feelings?_

"Anyway, I'm gonna head back down to the gate to see the Noxians on their way. They're all pretty much packed. I'll see you around."

And with that, the giant man stood, turned to the door, and walked out, but not before awkwardly bumping into Weylan, who'd just grabbed the door handle.

"I'm sorry Your Highness," Weylan apologized to Tryndamere, "I just saw the Queen's door open and came to close it. I didn't know you were here."

"It's fine, Captain. You do a fine job taking care of things around here. I admire your loyalty. We're lucky to have you around."

The growing light in the room illuminated Weylan's face from behind the Barbarian King. _What was that? On his face? _Weylan's features flashed to an expression of something Ashe could only describe as discomfort at Tryndamere's words. The King caught it too.

"Something the matter? I didn't mean to unsettle you," he assured Weylan, but to no avail, according to the skeptical glance he shot the man in front of him.

"No, sir. Everything's fine," Weylan said finally, stepping aside to let Tryndamere pass.

"See you," Tryndamere waved as he walked back down the hallway.

Weylan slid through the door before closing it lightly behind him. Ashe sighed exaggeratedly.

"Gosh, can't a Queen just get some sleep on her day off?" she smiled. But Weylan didn't return the favor. He stood, arms folded in front of him defensively, like a child who didn't want to play with anyone anymore. Ashe tilted her head and patted the bed next to her, but he didn't budge.

"Weylan?" she asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"Is it that hard to figure out? Or does it really not bother you that a half-clothed Barbarian with a reputation like his just left your room at six-o-clock in the morning?"

"I don't understand," Ashe replied, confused. _Why is he so angry?_

"I don't understand how you don't understand," he shot back, even more angrily. "Did you not listen to a single word Katarina said yesterday? Tryndamere does favors for _favors_. You expect everyone to believe that you called in a favor from him and didn't have to give him one in return? Do you expect me to believe he wasn't up here to collect on your end of the deal?"

Weylan's voice shook as he spoke. That's when it hit her. He wasn't just angry. He was _jealous_. And very hurt, too.

"Weylan, please," Ashe got out of her bed and approached him slowly. He flinched away from her as she reached out to his arm. "Tryndamere came up here to thank me for sticking with him and his tribe last night. That's all. Now, what's this _really_ about. You can tell me. It's okay."

Ashe placed a hand on his opposite elbow and turned him to her. His muscles relaxed at her touch, but his eyes did not lose their emotion. As Ashe breathed to say something else, the words were caught in her throat and immediately discarded from her brain when she felt two strong arms wrap carefully around her waist and pull her closer to the searching eyes of her best friend. She raised a hand to his cheek, but couldn't wipe the surprise off her face.

"_Now_ do you understand?" Weylan whispered urgently. Ashe nodded hesitantly. _What in Runeterra – _Weylan didn't let Ashe have time to question it. He leaned down and pressed gentle lips to Ashe's cheek.

"Weylan, I… had no idea. What would the elders think?"

Weylan pulled himself away from her to look at her. His face had changed completely. He no longer looked angry or sad; only contentment glowed from his honey-tinted eyes. He raised a hand to Ashe's forehead and swept her frosty veil of hair behind her ear before cupping her face and tracing her lips with his thumb. She could see the gears turning again in his head. His want for her intimidated her and empowered her at the same time.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you this," Weylan continued, ignoring her question. "Ashe, I love you. Every time your eyes meet mine, my heart takes off and bounces around in my chest. Your voice enchants me, your touch sets me aflame. You are noble, fair, and kind and the most beautiful woman in all Runeterra. I can't go two minutes without thinking about you…"

He stopped, suddenly worried that Ashe wouldn't react the way he'd always hoped she would. But she stood, silent and listening, but more importantly still in his arms. He sighed, relieved before he went on.

"I was able to control myself, until last night. You _left_ your hand deliberately on top of mine on your doorknob. You _didn't_ pull away."

The heat of Weylan's hand on Ashe's face was too alluring to her that she couldn't help but lean into him and close her eyes.

"I didn't want to," she said finally. She was met by an onslaught of small, playful, happy kisses all over her face. They both laughed at Weylan's giddiness. When their gazes crossed again, Weylan's focus dropped curiously back to the Frost Archer's lips. When she realized what he wanted, she felt her face flush.

"I have to admit," she smiled, sheepishly; "I've never kissed a boy before."

"Is that so?" Weylan raised an eyebrow mischievously. "It's never too late to learn."

He pushed the hand on Ashe's cheek back into her hair and gingerly wrapped his fingers in the silky tresses at the back of her head. Ashe closed her eyes and let Weylan direct her to where he wanted her to be. He tenderly pressed his lips into the contours of hers, melting her into his arms. As he pulled away, Ashe realized suddenly that she was still in her nightgown and that the morning light was sufficiently lighting her room now. Blushing, she stepped out of his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, now what?" she asked, awkwardly.

"I'm not really sure. It's not very professional to date the Captain of your Royal Guard, is it?" Weylan laughed, too happy to be put off.

"It's not really customary, no," Ashe smiled. "I'll see you downstairs."

"Make sure you put that blush away first," he poked.

_Well that didn't help it go away, now did it?_ she thought.

"Go get breakfast," she ordered, playfully pushing him to her door. He resisted her shoving just long enough to place a kiss on top of her head before shutting the door behind him.

_How?_ she thought, biting her bottom lip. _How had I not seen it before?_


End file.
